


Choke (On a Kiss)

by malevolentmango



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 21:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malevolentmango/pseuds/malevolentmango
Summary: No matter how hard you push yourself, you can't seem to run fast enough.You have to get to Julian. Now, before it's too late.





	Choke (On a Kiss)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to ems and mickey for reading this and boosting my confidence to post it. <3
> 
> Fic title is from the song [Rope](https://open.spotify.com/track/54hKdgpetDyrGQEAQwrnPQ?si=l45gOeM0QnuE-WrDgf1DkA) by the Foo Fighters!

No matter how hard you push yourself, you can't seem to run fast enough. 

 

You  _ have _ to get to Julian. Now, before it's too late. 

 

Darkness surrounds you as sprint through the narrow streets of Vesuvia - an unnatural darkness, one that obscures the buildings and the ground, blocking out all light and sound so that all you can hear is your own panting breath and the slap of your shoes against the cobblestones. 

 

There's one other sound, one you can't pinpoint the source of. A rhythmic thumping, a heartbeat that's not your own, calm, almost sedate. You're not sure how it's possible for it to sound  _ unconcerned, _ but it does. A stark, infuriating counterpoint to your desperate race through the city.

 

It feels like you're running for hours, and you may as well have been in the palace maze for how lost you are in your own hometown. Of all the days to lose your way, it had to be this one. What if you're too--

 

You stumble through on opening in the darkness that wasn't there before, and emerge into the town square. It's like stepping outside from a dark room, sunlight filling the square with incongruous brightness. When you glance over your shoulder, the opening is gone. But somehow, you know the darkness is still there. Waiting.

 

As you turn back around, you realize what else is off about this place: it's empty. No palace guards, no market vendors, no crowd of people at the center…

 

No, that's not right, you think. There were people, so many people, come out to watch. People jeering and cheering, people calling for his release--

 

What? You shake your head. No, it hasn't happened yet. Where did that thought even come from? 

 

You forget your confusion when you realize that you're not completely alone in the town square after all. You can't be sure if he was always there, or if your mind is playing more tricks on you, but you see him now. 

 

Julian. Standing on the gallows with the noose around his neck, looking for the world as if he could be leaning against the bar at the Rowdy Raven waiting for his drink and not about to be executed for murder. 

 

And that sound, that heartbeat, it's  _ his. _ It's all you can hear now, filling your ears like the roar of the absent crowd. Calm and serene, though the rhythm picks up when you call out his name and start to run towards him. He watches you approach with a smile, but try as you might, you can't get any closer to him - you're stuck about ten feet from him, much too far away to be of any use, but close enough to see the affection in his eyes when he looks at you. Every time you try to move closer, it's like walking through quicksand - futile, frustrating, pointless. All you can do is reach out to him, stretching through an impossible barrier, panic flaring as you realize: you're too late. You're too late, and you failed to save him, and now your only option is to watch him hang.

 

No, there has to be another way. You can't, you  _ can't _ lose him now, not when his absence leaves an ache in your heart every time he's not there with you, not when his grin and his laugh and his ridiculous eyebrows fill you with more joy than you thought you could ever feel, not when… not when you didn't realize you could love someone so much that you think the whole world must see it, because it's bursting from every part of you like a beacon in the night. 

 

You can't. 

 

You reach out with your magic to do something, anything, but for the first time that you can remember, it doesn't respond to your call. You've never felt so powerless. 

 

You're sure your heart must be pounding, but all you can hear is his, beating steadily, resolutely. There's no executioner - he reaches for the lever himself, giving you a sad smile, not saying a word. And that's not right either, you know it's not, he's got a whole  _ speech _ and his very own stage to speak it from, and anyway, when was the last time Julian Devorak had absolutely nothing to say? 

 

You want to run, to call out, to search for help, but that would mean taking your eyes off him, and so you don't. Instead, you watch.

 

It would be so much easier to look away.

 

He pulls the lever, and with it goes your heart. 

 

There's no struggle, no choking, no gasping for air - there is only the rope, a vivid, vicious outline circling Julian's neck, and then there's nothing. He's just… gone. An absence that you feel so keenly that you can't help but cry out, because you know, somehow, that he's not coming back. That you've lost him forever.

 

In the place where Julian stood a moment before is someone else: a human figure with a raven’s head. The Hanged Man, staring at you from the gallows. He doesn't say a word; he just winks at you, and suddenly you're surrounded by darkness once more.

 

“--up. Come on, darling, it's just a nightmare--”

 

Your eyes snap open, and you jolt upright in bed, panting for breath as if you'd just run a marathon. You did, you think, you were running, you had to get there, you had to stop him and you failed, you  _ failed... _

 

Julian sits up next to you, looking adorably ruffled and worried.

 

“You alright?” he says, voice gruff with sleep. “Must've been some dream you had, you were thrashing around and-- _ oof!” _

 

You must catch him off guard with the way you throw yourself at him, because he flails around and very nearly falls over before catching himself. And then he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, running a soothing hand down your back. You're shaking, you realize distantly. You can't seem to stop.

 

“Hey, it's okay,” he murmurs. “It's over now.” 

 

It takes several minutes for you to calm down, and all the while he doesn't let you go. He just waits, offering quiet reassurances as your rapid breathing slows, and in the space between words you can hear his heartbeat from where your ear is pressed against his chest. Not the terrifying, all-encompassing beat that it was before, drowning out all other sound, but gentle, normal, and steady. Exactly how it should sound. Between that and the low tone of his voice, you finally start to come back to yourself.

 

With a deep sigh, you ease out of his grasp - not too far, just enough to be able to see his face. He's watching you, concerned and a little curious, and when you meet his eyes he reaches up to brush some of the hair out of your face. It must be a mess.

 

“You want to talk about it?” he asks, and you find yourself recounting what happened almost immediately.

 

“I saw you.” Though you feel much more calm, your voice sounds strained. “In the town square. On the-- the gallows.”

 

Julian inhales sharply, and his expression turns pained. “Oh, love…”

 

He trails off as you lift your hand, trailing tentative fingers across his throat. You half-expected to see a rope mark there, all purple and mottled, but his skin is as pale as ever. Like it never happened at all. 

 

“I was trying to save you, but I couldn't. I was too late.” You think of Nadia's visions, and of Asra telling you about the potential of dreams to be a link between this world and the realms beyond, and your heart clenches in your chest. What if it wasn't just a dream? What if it's a prophecy? What if the Hanged Man changed his mind about letting Julian return - can he even do that? What if--

 

Julian takes your face between both his hands and tilts it up to look him in the eye. 

 

“I'm here,” he says, voice full of surety. “I'm fine. I'm not going anywhere. It was just a dream.” He sighs. “And it wasn't your fault, or your choice to make. There was nothing you could have done, but I'm sorry that it caused you so much pain.”

 

You shake your head, dislodging his hands. He rests them on your shoulders instead, a comforting weight. 

 

“You were right, though. You came back.” You take a deep breath and repeat the words, because you find that you really need to. “You came back.”

 

He smiles slightly. “I did. It wasn't a difficult choice to make, in the end. I was helpless to be anywhere other than where you were.”

 

His reassuring words help, but there's still a nagging feeling in your chest, a creeping anxiety that you might have seen something other than a dream, something important - not the future, perhaps, but a warning all the same. An indication that all is not as it seems. 

 

Julian stares at you for a moment, at the way you're twisting your hands in the sheets, and says, “Okay, wait here. I'll be right back.”

 

Without another word, he slips out of bed and out of the room. You can hear him clambering down the stairs to the shop below, followed by a shout of surprise and Asra's distant voice saying, “Put your damn shirt on!”

 

You can't help but laugh. It seems Asra has returned from his latest adventure a bit sooner than expected. Maybe you should have mentioned Julian's shirtlessness to him before he left the room, but you were preoccupied. At least it doesn't sound like there are any customers down there. And anyway, you're already wearing the shirt - it's not like you're about to give  _ that _ up. 

 

While he's gone, you wrap the blanket you were sharing around yourself, feeling chilled now that the adrenaline has worn off. You breathe in deep, finding comfort in the scent of Julian that still clings to the fabric. You can't truly seem to settle, all those  _ what ifs _ still buzzing around your head.

 

As always, Julian is the perfect distraction. He returns with his hands full and kicks the door closed with his foot before approaching the bed. With a grin, he bows in front of you, presenting you with a tray. 

 

“Breakfast in bed, my dear. The best treats of all the land, for the sweetest person in it.”

 

You roll your eyes, but his theatrics make you smile. He places the tray across your lap and then rejoins you in bed, a warm, solid presence at your side that you lean into gratefully.

 

“I see you've stolen all the covers,” he continues, affecting a long-suffering tone. “The cold is a small price to pay for your comfort, of course.”

 

“Of course,” you say, laughing, happy to fall back into your usual banter. “Don't worry, I'll warm you up later.”

 

“Oh  _ my! _ Is that a promise?”

 

“Only if you behave,” you say, as you start to examine the tray. There's a plate of toast with a thick layer of your favorite jam on it, a bowl of fruit that looks as if it was cut up with a saw instead of a knife, and a steaming cup of tea that's letting off some fragrant, herbal aroma. You pick that up first, and Julian chuckles. 

 

“Straight off the boat, as they say. Asra just brought it back. Said you'd like it.” He grins and adds, “And you know I've never behaved a day in my life.”

 

You hide your smile in your teacup as you take a sip, and the depth of flavor is instantly soothing.

 

“I see the fruit barely survived a similar adventure,” you say, and his cheeks flush.

 

“Well… I was in a hurry, you see, so I asked Asra to slice them with magic.”

 

You stare at the jagged pieces, knowing without a doubt that Asra's precise magic wouldn't have done  _ this. _ Your raised eyebrow makes Julian keep talking. 

 

“He, um. I don't know  _ how _ he knows that you've been teaching me a few tricks.” Here he pauses to give you an unimpressed look, but you just smile innocently. “But he refused to help me and insisted that I should, well… try it myself.”

 

“You did this with magic?” you say, voice filled with wonder. Sure, they look a bit rough, clearly cut by an unpracticed hand, but you haven't actually taught him how to do this yet. The theory, sure, but…

 

Typical Julian. Give him an idea, and he'll jump headlong into it. 

 

“Thank you, Julian.” You look up at him, and he's still a bit red in the face.  But the pure adoration in his eyes would’ve knocked the breath out of you, if you hadn't already been filled to the brim with it yourself. 

 

He kisses your bare shoulder where his too-loose shirt has slipped down out of place, and wraps his arm around your waist.

 

“One more thing,” he says. He picks up the plate of toast to reveal the object hiding underneath it. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of one of the cards: the Hanged Man, staring up at you from the breakfast tray. You can't look away from it.

 

Julian clears his throat, sounding a bit out of his depth as he still sometimes does when talking about the arcana, an aspect of magic that he doesn't fully understand. “You should, uh… ask him. If your dream was real--in the unlikely event that something else is going on, he would speak to you. Right?”

 

“Yes… he would,” you say. You don't ask how he guessed the Hanged Man made an appearance in your dream - he couldn't have known, but it's not much of a stretch, considering his own history with this particular major arcana. 

 

Finally, you tear your eyes away from the card. “Did you come up with that all on your own?”

 

Julian scoffs, pretending to be highly offended. “Of course I did! The nerve of you! I've picked up a thing or two.” His eyes flick to the tray. “Well, besides the fruit. I'll never be as good at this whole thing as you, of course.”

 

“You’re brilliant, Jules. You know that, right?” He immediately blushes at your praise, but you keep going. “It’s not about being as good or bad as anyone else. You just… you pick things up and study them until they make sense. That’s incredible.”

 

He’s bright red again at this point, but he soldiers through it. “And you, my dear, are extraordinarily talented, and strong-willed on top of it. You’d have to be, to put up with me. Now…” He gestures at the card. “Are we going to keep hurling compliments at each other until one of us breaks, or are you going to have a chat with our old friend there?”

 

Smirking, you say, “I don’t know… option one sounds pretty good. You’d  _ definitely _ break first.”

 

Julian plucks an uneven strawberry slice from the bowl and pops it in his mouth, unimpressed. You sigh.

 

“Yeah, alright.”

 

Before you can second-guess yourself, before you can even decide whether you really  _ want _ to know if your dream was a warning or not, you reach out and pick up the card, steeling yourself for yet another cryptic message from the arcana.

 

Nothing.

 

The Hanged Man is silent. No whispers, not even a vague feeling of discontent. And you can tell that it’s not because he’s holding back, or biding his time for the right moment. You can feel it in the total lack of presence: there’s nothing to tell. 

 

It was just a nightmare.

 

A weight lifts from your chest that you hadn’t even realized was there since you woke up, and you let out a breathy laugh.

 

Julian gives you a strange look. “Well? What did he have to say?”

 

You turn to Julian, totally unable to keep the wide smile off your face. “Not a word. It was… only a dream.”

 

The relief is overwhelming, uncontainable. You put down both the card and your cup of tea, shifting the tray down the bed out of the way in favor of pulling Julian into a deep kiss. He starts, surprised, and then laughs into the kiss as he drags you closer, until you’re practically in his lap. His lips are soft, languid against yours, and he runs a gentle hand through your hair before cradling your face in his hand.

 

When you finally part, Julian says, “I told you, darling: I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore.”

 

The last of the tension from that awful dream finally fades away, leaving nothing but love and contentment in its wake. The past may never truly stay in the past, emerging as it does when you least expect it to. But at least you know that, for now, your future is as bright as Julian’s adoring smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://malevolentmango.tumblr.com/).


End file.
